Part 2, Chapter 1

As the plane glided through the wispy clouds, Mary stared out the window, her nose pressed against the cool glass. Apprehensions and doubts seemed to invade her mind, filling her with uncertainty. She nervously thought about their new home, their future life. Her mother and Edmund were both so confident that everything would be fine; they were both so full of courage and hope. But Mary…Mary didn’t think she could ever be brave. She thought of her father. He had passed away that February as he drove home from work. It had been a stormy day, torrential rains hammering down from dawn until dusk. He had been hurrying home after a late night at the office, when his car skid across the road and in front of an eighteen-wheeler. He had passed away in the ambulance.

Now they were moving. Moving to Virginia, to a small farm owned by their grandparents. Grandparents who she hadn’t seen in seven years, and who until a month ago didn’t seem to care whether she was alive or dead.

Mary had grown up in L.A.; she was used to the noise and bustle of the city. She couldn’t imagine life in the country, all alone in the middle of nowhere. But Mrs. Benison thought that a change would be good for them, all of them.
“Kids, I got a letter from your grandparents from Virginia today,” she had said one evening as they sat around the table eating their dinner. “They want to know if we’d like to come and stay with them on their farmstead for a while. They have a little cottage nearby that they usually rent out, but it’s empty now, and they say it would be perfect for us.”

At first Mary had been shocked and upset. Moving to Virgin! Never! But she could tell it meant a lot to her mother. She had grown up in the country, and Mary thought that sometimes her mother got nostalgic for her childhood home.
“I think you’ll really enjoy life on a farm,” she had said. “It’s going to be a great experience for you both. Plus you’re grandparents will be there. I think it will be good for us to be closer to family.”
Grandparents? Did they even deserve that name, after only appearing in her life now after simply vanishing for seven long years? Yet, Mary knew that her mother was under a lot of pressure, raising two kids all by herself in a big city. She needed some sort of help and support, and having her parents near would make a world of difference for her.

Even before her husband’s death, Mrs. Benison had spoken often of wanting to get out of the noise and bustle of the city, to spend some time in the calm of the country. She was a writer, and although she had found the diversity and activity of the city a good source of fodder for her writing, she thought that some time in the peace and tranquility of the farm would give her the serenity she needed for her creativity. Mr. Benison, however, had always abhorred the idea of living in the country, particularly, it seemed to Mary, near a certain farmstead in Virginia.

Edmund was of course thrilled at the prospect of living on a farm.
“Do they have horses? And chickens? And goats? And will there be bears in the woods? By Jove, I can’t wait to ride the horses!” he had squealed the moment his mother mentioned the farm. Now, he sat beside Mary, barely able to contain his excitement. Squirming around in his seat, he tried to get a peak through the window out into the blue sky.
“Do you think we’re almost their, Mary?” he asked, a little anxiously.
“We still have the layover in Charlotte,” Mary said, laughing at his impatience.
“Oh man! How long after that?”
“I’m not sure. Not too long, I think.”
“I sure hope not! ‘Farewell we call to hearth and hall, though wind may blow and rain may fall! We must away ere break of day, far over wood and mountain tall!’” He sang, receiving a couple of looks from his fellow passengers in return for his melodious air.

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